The Loss of Innocence
by edwart
Summary: There isn't a lot that Rosalie Hale is afraid of, but there is one certain thing that she could never escape. One thing that creeps into her vulnerable mind and disables it with fear. One shot.


The Loss of Innocence.

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RPOV

It wasn't that I hated the girl, I just hated some of the choices she made.

She had no idea what I wouldn't give to go back, to be her. To be _human_. I would never want to give up Emmett, but I couldn't help but feel insanely bitter about my new _life_. It didn't feel like living, not really.

At times being a vampire can be monotonous. Without sleep one day tends to dissolve into another; no definite sign that a new day has approached at all. And when my life became this reality, I often found it easy to have my thoughts drift back to human memories. The good memories, the happy memories, were had to find. They were hazy, obscured by my immortality. The unfairness of it all was that my horrific, awful human memories were crystal clear. I could see them in my mind as if they had only just happened.

When I thought about the rape, I would do my best to move far away from Edward. I understood that his abilities were not always controllable, that sometimes he just couldn't help but hear the intimate musings of my mind. But when I remembered this particular _event_, I hated having him hear my thoughts. I felt so exposed, bare.

The rape was never referred to in my mind as 'my rape'. It did not _belong_ to me, it belonged to the monsters that inflicted the pain. I loathed the days when the rape made its appearance.

It was one of such days.

I took a break from hunting. Drifting away from Edward and Emmett, who were fighting over some nearly bone-dry carcass like the fools they were, and sunk down on the dewy grass. I let my head loll back against the tree behind me: my hair would get covered in moss, but I didn't really care now.

A lot of things triggered it - the memory of the rape. Sometimes it could be something as simple as seeing a girl wearing something similar to what I wore that night. Sometimes it was triggered by something more direct, like watching a movie with a rape scene in it.

I could never watch those.

Today my reminder was a simple one. Boredom.

Boredom led to ramblings in my mind, and today this rambling was not pleasant.

_I screamed as the pain intensified, raising my hand to dig my nails into his skin. He didn't even flinch. His eyes had a sickening crazy look about them. They pierced into my own, reflecting my visage like twin mirrors. I did not see into his soul, I did not see into his heart. I saw into _mine_. I watched as the frightened girl's face contorted with pain. That face was seen as beautiful was no longer beautiful. That face was not mine. That face was _his_. _

I shuddered, falling back against the tree.

"It's not real, it's not real," I whispered to myself.

Denial was so easy. It was effortless. As long as I continued to convince myself it never happened, I could find some form of happiness within my life.

_Was it normal to still carry these scars when my skin was impenetrable? _

I looked back at my brother and husband and sighed. Edward let Emmett win, and my childish husband was enjoying his meal. Edward stared at me, his eyes not full of pity. He was the only one in our family that didn't show me pity when the rape was mentioned. He knew I hated it.

_Thanks._

He smiled at me, just a little, before I rolled his eyes at Emmett and walked toward me. Edward sat down opposite me, mirroring my posture.

"It is normal," he said simply, his hand running through his messy hair. I hated that hair - it needed a brush. It needed more than that.

He smirked.

"Bella likes it."

"Of course Bella likes it, she likes everything to do with you."

"You're trying to change the subject," he said accusingly. "I said, it _is_ normal - for you to continue to carry those scars. Rose, you don't give yourself enough credit."

I shrugged.

"The rape…," he said, sighing, "Was not something to take lightly. I know, Rosalie, I know it still hurts you. I know you still suffer. But you have so much to be happy about, right? Look at you: Emmett, the rest of the family, a home, a life, endless money to buy expensive cars for you to makeover."

I laughed.

"You're right, I have it _all_," I said sarcastically. "I have everything except for _one_ thing."

A tiny precious baby in my arms, with Emmett's curls and my eyes.

Edward sighed.

"I know," he said simply.

_His lips pressed to my neck and I sobbed louder. _

"_Please stop! Please!" I begged, crying harder. He laughed. Blood trickled down my arm, thick, red; violent red. I watched as it fell off my skin, staining the concrete below. As it slowly circulated, growing bigger, expanding in width on the pavement, I felt another stab of pain. Soon I wouldn't feel a thing._

_Soon I would be nothing._

Edward shuddered.

"You were wrong, though," Edward pointed out. "You didn't become 'nothing', you just became something different."

I looked away from him, my eyes training back to Emmett; still preoccupied with the beast.

"He doesn't know the half of it," I mused. "He doesn't realize my pain, my _real _pain. Sometimes when he kisses me…It feels like _them_. I panic, I turn away. I hurt him. I hate it."

"You lost a lot that day, Rosalie," Edward said as he stood. "Your innocence, your human life…But you gained something better than any of that."

Edward stood in front of me, offering me his hand. I took it and let him help me up.

"What did I gain?"

"You gained strength, Rose. And I'm not just talking about your physical capabilities. You're tough, brave." We looked back at Emmett one last time.

"And now no one can ever hurt you again."

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Thoughts? (:

It's a little different to what I usually write, more angst, but I admire Rosalie as a character, and I wanted to delve into her mind for a few minutes.


End file.
